Netherworld Retrograde

In the depths of the Ten Thousand Mountains, the surviving warriors ignited the flames of their soul, offering a solemn prayer.

"Great being walking in the abyss of eternal night, Master of Green Flames who tears the veil of despair..."

"We are willing to use our broken bodies as fuel, igniting this flame of hope!"

"With my flesh, transform into green flame!"

These warriors, gathered by Dawn, had the original strategic mission of using the treacherous terrain to contain the Alien Race Army and Wanderers.

Now, the strategic goal of this war has been achieved.

With the success of the decapitation strike, the Alien Race Civilization has completely lost control of the Wanderers, as the frenzied monsters begin to turn against their former handlers, dragging the flames of war towards the Alien's city-states and legions.

Yet at this moment, they still choose to ignite this self-immolating fire, charging onto the battlefield without hesitation.

Because that great Master of Green Flames is casting His gaze upon this blood-soaked battlefield, engaging in a fierce contest with the Chaos Gods.

There, there are human comrades in need of their assistance!

That figure is crucial, bearing the dawn and hope.

Thus, they made the choice to embark on the journey again, igniting the green flame symbolizing hope, using their burning lives to tear open the night veil of despair for their comrades, welcoming the arrival of dawn!

Each figure charged onto the battlefield without hesitation, transforming into streams of green meteors. They burned not just flesh but the remnants of life and relentless will. Every flare of green flame tore open a crack in the night veil of despair covering the battlefield.

In the torrent of death, some turned to look towards their hometown, some silently recited names of dear friends, and some shouted the code names of fallen comrades. But they never stopped because ahead lay hope needing protection.

The green flames converged into a torrent, rushing towards the heart of the battlefield. Where they passed, Wanderers melted like snow, and the Alien Race Army fled in panic. This was no ordinary flame; this was hope itself burning, the last gleam emitted by countless souls to protect their comrades.

At the end of the path opened by this self-immolating fire, dawn is arriving.

However, a roar from Supreme Heaven echoed throughout the world.

"Before the green flames, find him, he is mine!" The Blood God's roar exploded like thunder in all the Divine Chosen's minds, his raging will almost tearing their souls apart.

"He is my offspring, your brethren, he must return to my embrace!" The Father of Plague's voice, carrying a decaying aura, echoed in the void, like a call from the deepest part of the Plague Garden.

"Let him become my avatar among men, continuing to spread art and beauty!" The enticing voice flowed like honey yet carried irresistible majesty.

In that instant, the chaotic factions on the battlefield completely descended into madness.

They too forgot the original purpose of coming to this battlefield, forgot why they fought against Alien Races and Wanderers. But driven by the oracle, they abandoned all thoughts!

Since our master desires that human, then he must be our Divine Chosen!

The Chaos Chosen Ones let out earth-shattering roars, Divinity at this moment unreservedly blossomed. For their faith in the Evil God, they would pay any price!

The Bloodsuckers wield swords forged from flesh and metal, cutting down Wanderers and Aliens like wheat, and immediately blood and flesh flew across the battlefield.

The Plague Knights launched a death charge, the decaying warhorses trampling where even the earth began to rot. They stabbed like poisoned blades into the remnants of the Alien Race Army's formation.

Desire Demons and Banshees emitted ear-piercing shrieks, that bizarre sound causing countless Wanderers to clutch their heads in agony, killing one another in extreme pain.

However, amidst the Chaos Army's frenzied advance, the sky suddenly rang with sly and triumphant laughter.

An army of fresh forces never before seen suddenly entered the battlefield like phantoms.

They bore wings as dazzling as gemstones, wielding staves inlaid with strange runes. As the staves waved, Spiritual Energy currents twisted and spread across the battlefield like poisonous serpents.

They were the Chaos Elite, never before seen in hundreds of years, from the most mysterious Deceit Elite Legion.

Witch Demons!

Their cunning gazes swept across the battlefield as if admiring their carefully arranged chess game.

As the staves waved, reality's structure began to warp, and space's rules were rewritten. The entry of this fresh force made the already chaotic battlefield even more bizarre and unpredictable.

Simultaneously, they jointly released forbidden rituals, unleashing a strange meteor shower upon the entire battlefield.

"Deceit Dao!"

"Sons of bitches!"

"*%...&%...%...￥"

The Chaos Chosen of other factions roared in anger, but just having experienced a bloody battle, they were no longer at their peak. Facing the three Deceit Chosen Ones in their newly attained Divine Favor Attitude, their actions appeared slow and weak.

A sandpiper and clam fight, and the fisherman gains.

And now, the cunning fisherman finally appeared, ready to harvest the most precious trophies in this chaos!

Deceit Chosen One Dao Mou laughed heartily: "Did you see? My master, this truly is the most spectacular performance!"

He was so excited he almost trembled, intercepting the treasure all the Gods coveted under their noses!

Powerless Gods!

All you can do is watch helplessly!

Hahahaha!

"This moment!" Dao Mou's laughter echoed across the battlefield: "It belongs to us, Deceit Dao! Remember it all!"

His gaze locked onto the pair fighting fiercely among the Wanderers. They bore no Spiritual Energy or Divinity fluctuations, yet solely relying on pure physical power, they slaughtered the monsters into disarray.

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